The rose came at midnight.
Not a message. Not a knock.
A single, blood red rose placed on the sill of my palace window its stem wrapped in black silk, and at the base, a rune burned into one of the petals.
A phoenix crest.
They were calling me.
The note beneath the rose gave no name. Just a place.
"Where your mother once burned, we bloom again. Midnight. The Rose Cellar."
I waited until the guards rotated at the change of watch. Kael, silent as my shadow, followed without question.
The "cellar" turned out to be a forgotten wine vault beneath one of the imperial greenhouses hidden behind thick vines and illusion runes.
As I stepped through, a wall shimmered and vanished, revealing a narrow tunnel that twisted like roots beneath the palace.
The air buzzed faintly with magic. Old, rebel magic.
And at the end of the path they were waiting.
Five figures stood in a stone chamber lit by a single floating ember. Their faces masked. But the energy in the room told me everything I needed to know.
These were not nobles. Not students. Not cowards.
They were survivors.
The tallest among them stepped forward, lowering their hood.
A woman olive skin, sharp jaw, eyes glowing faint gold.
"You don't know me," she said, "but I knew your mother. I fought beside her. And I buried what the Empire couldn't erase."
I felt something shift in my chest. "You're… Phoenix Order."
"We are what's left of it," she replied. "What they didn't burn. What they didn't kill."
She handed me something a thin golden ring, etched with a phoenix feather.
"Seraphina Dorne forged this when she bound her fate to yours. If you wear it… the rebellion follows you."
I stared at it. "What do you want from me?"
She looked me dead in the eyes.
"To lead."
Before I could answer, the chamber shuddered.
A bang echoed down the tunnel.
"Trap!" someone hissed. "They followed her!"
But it wasn't the palace guard.
No it was worse.
Three cloaked figures entered through the far tunnel, their armor blackened, their weapons etched with inquisitor brands.
Church assassins.
"Target acquired," one of them said.
I didn't wait.
The rune on my chest flared, and I threw up a barrier of golden flame one that twisted and curved in strange new patterns.
It wasn't just defense.
It was Spellweaving.
And it didn't feel borrowed anymore.
It felt mine.
Kael moved beside me like a blade fast, precise, merciless. But it was me they wanted.
One of the inquisitors lunged with a blood-forged blade.
I caught it mid-air with a burst of fire and burned the symbols off his steel.
He screamed and fled. The others followed.
The rebellion members stared at me, stunned.
I turned, still breathing hard. "If you want me to lead… I won't hide. But I won't follow blindly either."
The woman nodded. "Then you're already better than most kings."
I returned to the palace with Kael just before dawn. No one saw us. The guards remained at their post. The Empire slept, still dreaming it held control.
But something had shifted in the dark.
A rose had bloomed again.
And it had teeth.